


Doing Domestic

by midnightinbarcelona



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Mentioned The Doctor (Doctor Who), Mentioned The Doctor's TARDIS, Mentioned The Doctor/The Doctor's TARDIS, Parents Metacrisis Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler, Pregnancy, Pregnant Rose Tyler, Rose Tyler Loves the Doctor, Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler Fluff, The Doctor Loves Rose Tyler, The Doctor's Incarnations (Doctor Who) Are Siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:49:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27529495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightinbarcelona/pseuds/midnightinbarcelona
Summary: Just a fun little fic I thought I’d do. Always wanted to write the Doctor (particularly 10.5) as domestic, so here I am. Anyway, I don’t (and will never) own Doctor Who, so this is just for fun. Feel free to take a load off and join John and Rose Tyler in their everyday domestic life.
Relationships: Metacrisis Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler, The Doctor (Doctor Who)/Rose Tyler
Kudos: 20





	1. Chapter 1

He had ventured across galaxies and worlds, led revolutions and world wars, saved the universe time and time again, been to Barcelona (the planet) and Barcelona (the city) and back again. And now, he was a married man, soon-to-be father, and a country doctor, doing just what he swore he’d never do: domestic.

At the moment, he was doing something so incredibly domestic that he felt his alien counterpart would shudder at the mere thought: washing the dishes. More specifically, the wedding china he and his ever entreating wife had used for a take-out Italian dinner. He stood in the dim lamplight in the kitchen, over the sink, in his flannels, scrubbing at a particularly stubborn spot on his wine glass. He set the glass on the countertop and bent to look under the sink for a stronger soap.

“Rose?” he called over his shoulder, “where’s the extra-shine soap?”

“Under the sink.”

“I already checked there.”

“Then we’re out,” she noted as she sat up from her seat on the sofa, shifting the blankets slightly around her baby bump. “I can run out and get some if you really need it that bad, John.”

At the thought of his weary wife trudging out to the local convenience shop, John stood up, wearing a stern teacher’s look upon his face. “Absolutely not. Not in your condition, and not in this weather. I’ll finish the rest of the dishes and make a trip for the soap. Is there anything else you’d like me to pick up while I’m out?”

“Oh, John, ’m only six months along, and ’s not that bad out there. J’st some rain and wind from the coast, nothing to fear. You’re actin’ as if I’m on hospice or somethin’.”

John shook his head as he dried off the last dish, “Anything could happen. Especially to you.”

Rose shot him a smirk. “Why do you have this idea that I’m a magnet for trouble?”

“Because I’m right,” he smirked back at her, setting the dish in the china cabinet and padding from the kitchen to the living room. “The Bad Wolf always finds herself in a multitude of scrapes around me.”

John knelt beside the sofa, taking her hands in his. “Come on, what would you like from the store?”

“Mmmm… a nice jar o’ pickles. That’ll do it.”

John chose not to question his wife’s cravings, letting the natural course of motherhood dictate what she believed was delicious.

“Y’know, if we had the TARDIS up and running, we could get some of that lovely apple grass. ’s what I’m really craving.”

He sighed to himself. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy his new life, but every now and then, at the mention of his beloved TARDIS, John could have sworn he heard a second heartbeat echo in his chest. The old girl was undergoing some major repairs for the winter. “Well,” he shrugged, “if I could, I would. I’ll pick up some apple things while I’m out, if you’d like.”

“Please and thanks.”

John pressed a kiss to his wife’s knuckles. “Of course.”

He threw on a sweater, some sweatpants, and a warm coat and hurried out the door into the frigid French night. Ever since he and Rose had moved to Arromanches-les-Bains, the wind had chewed away at their cheeks and lips like nothing else. Of course, his patients had informed him, he had to wait until the summer for the best weather. The summer was the best time at the French seaside, they assured him; that was when all of the tourists came to stay and the business boomed. Normandy came to life when the people came, naturally.

John mused over a few of his patients’ diagnoses as he neared the little convenience store on the corner of the street. While none of the cases were particularly troubling, his mind drifted to one of his expecting female patients, a close friend of his and Rose’s. She had become quite anemic over the past several months, accompanied with the anticipated fainting spells and fatigue, and he began to worry that his wife would meet the same fate. He decided to pick up some more of the iron supplements from the pharmacy, as she would be finishing her last dose this evening.

A few bells jingled as he swung open the door to the store. He waved to M. Bouc, the shopkeeper, who glanced up from his cigar to nod at him. “How’s the wife then?” Bouc huffed as he turned the cash register on. Bouc always huffed, as if the world’s troubles had gnawed away all of the mirth in his voice when he was ten years old.

“Fine, just a bit peckish, but you know how that goes.” While John had never fully learned French, the remnants of his time in the TARDIS clung to his being, translating every foreign phrase for his English ears and his English mumblings for the foreigners.

“Right. ’S all worth it, ‘suppose. When’s she due?”

“April, we think.”

“Boy or girl?”

“Keeping it a surprise.”

“Ah,” Bouc tutted, “women and their surprises. Reminds me of the time me wife came home with a fancy Paris purse, an’ I made her take it back. Quite a surprise, if you know wha’ I mean.”

John chuckled to himself as he grabbed the pickles and the soap from their respective shelves and searched for a bag of apple crisps. “All too well, I’m afraid. We didn’t find out about the baby until Rose was three months along, all because she was waiting to tell me at the right time.”

“Which was?”

“Over a spaghetti dinner. Not a pretty sight when she told me, you know, but a wonderful surprise nonetheless.”

“Wha’? Noodles out ya nose or somethin’?” Bouc speculated, a hint of a smile on his face at the thought.

“Something like that. Here we go,” he placed the goods on the countertop.

“Six euros.”

“‘Course.”

“If you throw in a pack o’ cigarettes, it’ll only cos’ ya an extra euro.”

“You really want me to take up smoking that bad, eh?” John shook his head as he fished the euros out of his wallet.

“Look, all ‘m sayin’ is that you’re gonna be a father, and ev’ry father needs a good smoke break from the whining mother and kids. Relaxes the soul, ’s wha’ the little cartoony voice says on the radio.”

“Does it now? Does it mention the increased risk of lung cancer or the possibility that I’ll have to perform a mandibulectomy on you one day? Not something I’m exactly looking forward to, by the way. Maybe I’ll have to send you to Paris for that surgery. Then while you’re out on the table, the wife’ll snag another Parisian purse as a little wake-up surprise.”

“Now hold on, you’re sayin’ tha’ just because I smoke a bit here an’ there tha’ Mariette could go out an have another excuse to get a Paris purse?”

“I’m just giving you a friendly warning. Maybe your wife wants you to smoke a bit to get herself another purse, yeah?”

Bouc’s eyes were wide with horror. “Tha’ does it,” he muttered, putting out his cigar as quickly as he could. “She’s not gettin’ any Paris purse, and she’s not doin’ it while ‘m on the table. Thank you, Dr. Tyler.”

“Happy to be of service, M. Bouc,” John chirped over his shoulder as he took his bag of goods in his hand and waltzed out of the shop.

His thoughts were much quieter as the stars peeked out from their cloudy blankets. The wind had died down a bit, a mighty gust blowing every now and then, instead of the constant gale. Perhaps when he got home, he’d give his wife a neck massage then treat himself to a long, book-filled evening in his office. He had recently picked up a new book on skeletal disorders that he’d been meaning to peruse. Another young patient of his had developed arthritis-related symptoms, but his bloodwork was coming up fine. Perchance the greater world of modern medicine had made such a remarkable discovery as he required.

The warmth from the fire met his chill-bumped skin as he entered his home. Rose had fallen asleep on the sofa, a habit she had developed over the past several weeks. John smiled to himself and set the shopping bag on the counter. He took the soap, and after scrubbing the stain off of the glass, placed the jar of pickles and the bag of crisps beside her in the event she desired a midnight snack. John took the skeletal disorders book from his office to read in his comfy living room chair and flipped to a page discussing the development and research on arthralgia.

After an hour or so, when the last embers of the fire were dying, Rose began to stir, her bare toes poking out from her blanket. John glanced over at her and moved to pull the blanket over her the exposed parts of her feet. Rose continued to shift around, trying to find a comfortable position to go back to sleep, now that she was partially awake. Eventually she sat up groggily, shaking the fog off of her mind as she smiled wearily at her husband.

“Hey, you.”

John looked up from a diagram of the human foot. Metatarsal. What a funny word. “Hey, darling. Catch a catnap?”

“Not much of one. ’m gonna go to bed and sleep wi’ the pillow you got in for me a few weeks ago.”

“Is it helping with the back pain?”

She nodded as she stretched her arms and patted her belly tenderly. “Thank you. Did you get th’ pickles and the apple things?”

“Of course. They’re right beside you.”

“Thanks again,” she nodded once more at him as she screwed off the lid on the pickle jar and removed a cucumber, crunching on it slowly. “How was M. Bouc?”

“He’s not smoking anymore, thanks to a little conversation we had tonight.”

“Oh really? Do tell.”

John set his book on the coffee table and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, and relayed the story of his persuasion with M. Bouc.

“Well, if all it took was to remind him of his penny-clinching nature, then I’m pretty impressed.”

He shared a smile with his wife. “Yeah. Much better for his health, in the long run. I’ll see if I can’t set him up with some nicotine patches or something tomorrow.” 

Rose thought for a few moments as she continued to chew on the pickle. “Did I tell you Mum’s wantin’ to come visit for a few days after the baby’s born? She called this afternoon.”

“Great, now we’ll have two babies to look after.”

She threatened to throw her half-eaten pickle at him, failing to suppress the coy smile on her face. “She just wants to help out.”

“I know. By the way, the crib parts are coming in on Friday, and M. Chambourg is coming over to help me with it.”

“Lovely. The nursery’s really gonna come together once we get that crib in there. Doesn’t it convert into a toddler bed once the baby’s outgrown it?”

“Yep,” he popped the ‘p.’

The two were silent for a few moments. Rose was the first to break the lull. “John, are you happy? I mean, I know we’re not chasing aliens and saving planets and all, but… I mean…”

“Absolutely.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Seriously?”

John rose from his chair to kneel beside his wife. “This is the adventure I always wanted, always watched from afar, but could never have. I wanted to be a human for a while, you know.”

“Are you joshing me, John?”

He shook his head, his eyes meeting hers. “We'll have plenty of new adventures with this little one. I'm not sure how much time we're going to have to go on adventures in the TARDIS once they're here. But yes, I've always wanted this adventure, ever since I met you.”

She awkwardly bent forward to kiss his forehead, and he met her lips with his. The two shared a long kiss before pulling away. “Doctor John Tyler, I love you.”

“And I love you, Marion Rose Tyler, the magnificent Bad Wolf of all universes, alternate and present."

Rose gasped a bit as the baby shifted. “You alright?” John murmured in her ear, his hand following hers to her baby bump.

“Yeah, I think our little adventurer wants to be included, tha’s all.”

“We’ve come up with a few names, haven’t we?” he mused, mentally flipping through the rolodex of names that he and Rose had come up with in conversation.

“Yeah. Jack for a boy and Eleanor for a girl. Why don’t we give the baby a temporary name or something until he or she arrives?”

“You know what would make this so much easier?”

“John, I want to be surprised.”

“And I want to know what color to paint the nursery,” he quipped, tickling her side gently.

Rose let out a small peal of laughter, her blonde curls falling into her face. John’s tender fingers brushed them out of her face, giving him the opportunity to press a kiss to her temple. “Come on, love. You look beautifully exhausted. There’s a nice warm bed and a comfy back pillow waiting on you in the bedroom.”

“Apple crisps and pickles too?”

He snickered. “The pickles can come along with you. Just keep them on your side of the bed, and pass me a crisp every now and then, if you don’t mind.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Easy now, just look at the painting behind me if it makes you squeamish,” John ushered the young man who was sitting upon the examining table, allowing him to set his knee back in its socket. The young man winced, a small crack echoing in the room as John finally set the knee back in place.

“So, you wanna tell me why you’re here?” John muttered as he wrapped bandages around the knee with gentle expertise.

The man, Alexandre Rouque, sighed. “Yeah. You’re gonna kill me though. I was out skateboarding with my mates, and we decided to try to grind that rail that leads to the beach…”

John looked up at his patient with stern eyes. “And you fell, hit your knee out of socket on the stones below. Well, I’m just glad your friends brought you in when they did, and thank goodness none of them tried it after your crash. I don’t want you skateboarding for the rest of the week, to be safe, and make sure when you’re at home on the sofa or in your bed, your knee’s good and propped up, yeah? You’ll be just fine,” he smiled down at him, giving him a soft clap on the back.

“Thank you, Dr. Tyler. Don’t know where I’d be without you.”

“Probably still on the beach, I’d imagine!”

The two shared a small chuckle as John helped Alexandre off of the examining table and guided him to the waiting room where his friends were waiting. He waved to the men as they left the office and turned to check his appointments list. He had just enough time to meet Rose for lunch before his 2 o’clock appointment.

John washed his hands, pulled on his jacket, and locked up the office before leaving for his home. It was only a few blocks away. Then again, everything in Arromanches-les-Bains was only a few blocks away. The sun peeked out from the clouds for a few moments, bathing everyone in warm rays. A small smile rested on John’s face as he strolled down the cozy alleys to his home near the beach. He removed his keys from his pocket and opened the door gingerly.

“John?”

“Rose, darling?”

Rose poked her head out of the kitchen, a welcoming smile on her face. “Come on in, dear. Table’s set and everythin’, if you don’t mind waitin’ a bit on some biscuits I’ve got in the oven.”

“Not at all, dear. Thank you.”

“So, anything interesting happen today?” she asked as she set a tray of sandwiches on the kitchen table and filled his glass with fresh ice water.

“Just a knee out of socket and a head cold, nothing much. M. Bouc’s finally taking to the nicorette gum I’ve been trying to get him on.”

“’s been almost two months since you got him out of smoking, an’ he’s just now taking the nicorette?”

John nodded as he removed his jacket and took a seat at the table. “Bouc’s not the easiest man to persuade, but he told me he’s gonna give it a go. We’ll see how it plays out. So, how are you feeling?”

Rose shrugged as she pulled the sheet of biscuits from the oven. “Alright, I guess. Baby hasn’t dropped yet.”

“Not yet?”

She shook her head, placing each biscuit on a shamrock-shaped plate, in honor of Saint Patrick’s Day. “The little one’s just taking their time, I guess.”

John took a sip of his ice water for a few moments, pondering whether or not now was the right time to bring up something he knew wouldn’t entirely please his wife.

“Rose, what would you say if we went to Paris to have the baby? I mean, Dr. Dumarche is quite good, after all. Old family friend of ours and everything, and I know you’d be much more comfortable there.”

Rose scrunched her nose at the thought, taking the seat opposite her husband and removing a few sandwiches to place on her plate. “Paris? I mean, it’s fine and all, but it’s so… stressful. I’ll do what you think is best for me and the baby, but… Paris?”

“Is there somewhere else you’d like to go?”

“Wha’ about Saint-Malo? ’s not too far off. Just a quick drive down the coast, yeah? An’ Mum could get Pete to send the helicopter to Portsmouth an’ take the ferry in.”

John paused as he ate his sandwich. “You know, I’d be okay with that. We’d have to leave early, and I could get a doctor from Caen to cover for me for a few days. I’d just have to bump up my appointments and get the prescriptions taken care of. Yeah. Saint-Malo’ll work just fine. I’ll call the hospital when I get back to the office.”

“Would you still be delivering, then?”

“In Saint-Malo? Yeah, probably, but I’d have better access to things like pitocin and epidurals if you needed it, and in the event I have to perform an emergency C-section, I’m much more equipped with anesthesia and tools. Emergencies can happen in hospitals, where they really can’t here.”

“You delivered Emelie’s baby just fine here withou’ all o’ that.”

“I know, but she was having her third baby. Chances were, she wasn’t going to require those things and could deliver normally. This is our first, and well… there’s more than can go wrong. Trust me, I’ve seen it go wrong.”

Rose sipped her glass of water. “Back in Paris and Barcelona, yeah?”

“Yeah, back in Paris and Barcelona. Which is why I wanted to take you to Paris before, but Saint-Malo’s just fine. You been keeping up with those iron supplements?”

“Of course! Wouldn’t disobey Dr. Tyler’s orders!”

John chuckled to himself. “Oh, wouldn’t you? I bet you’re gonna take it right after I leave, right?”

“Now why would I do tha’? You think that I’ve become tha’ forgetful since I got pregnant?” Rose pretended to be offended at the thought.

“I know you have.”

“Name one thing I’ve forgotten!”

“Your iron supplement last week, your curling iron left on all day yesterday, and the baguettes from Mme. Atelier.”

She reached over to pop his hand gently. “I said one thing, not three, you ninny. Besides, you know ’s worth it.”

“Absolutely,” John’s eyes met hers, the two exchanging an excited grin. “I mean, we’re gonna be up all night with our little one, but, just think. We’ll get to take them to Disneyland Paris, the beach, London, Paris, Barcelona, Rome, all of those adventures we get have again, but in a new light. Then there’s the little things, like giving them their first bath, helping them take their first steps, walking them to school in the mornings, picking them up in the afternoons, sharing an ice lolly in the summer, and watching them open Christmas presents. Isn’t that fantastic?”

Rose grinned from ear to ear. “Simply fantastic, Dr. Tyler. If I wasn’t ready to have this baby before, I am now, just to do all of those wonderful little things with them.”

John squeezed her hand gently. “Me too. All in good time, I suppose.”

The two finished their sandwiches, and John headed back to the office for a bit, taking a small zip-up bag of biscuits his wife had sent with him. For the rest of the afternoon, he decided to work on writing out some new medications for his ailing patient with arthritis. There was always a chance, especially with Rose’s connections with Torchwood, that he could quickly cure an impossible ailment.

His mind drifted to the time before they moved to Arromanches as he entered the office and set to work in his laboratory. They had lived in London for a few months, where they were wed, then Rose was transferred to the Paris branch of Torchwood. In Paris, he had learned so much at the foot of Dr. Dumarche, a general physician and agent of Torchwood. He worked at his side, helping him with whatever challenges came their way.

Then he found himself as a doctor in the emergency room, where everything, from motorcycle accidents (there were far too many of those in Paris!) to sprained ankles came in on a daily basis. The two had almost decided to spend the rest of their lives in Paris, until Rose was transferred to Barcelona. Once again, he was working in the ER, while she was studying the ancient artifacts of the monastery from Montserrat with her collegues. There had been a theory for a number of years that the monks of Montserrat knew of some alien encounters with the King of Spain, and being an expert in all things alien, Rose was the prime choice in leading the research. And then, after Rose had helped solve the mystery of the Spanierians (Spanish versions of the clockwork androids they had encountered with Madame de Pompadour), they had been called away to Arromanches.

Arromanches-Les-Bains was barely a dot on a map before John was called to take the position as the presiding country doctor. It sounded so promising, a life of peace and quiet for his growing family, that Rose was eager for him to take the position. Of course, she still worked with Torchwood on and off, whenever they needed her input on particularly challenging paradoxes in their discoveries. Even John had been able to help Torchwood in a few ways through his experiments in his office lab. Today he was expecting a shipment of calcium from the Paris branch to toy with his theory of osteoporosis and alien remedies.

Sure enough, a large wooden crate marked “Tyler Offices” came in via the postman, M. Baurel, just as John arrived at the office.

“Quite a big one, this is!” M. Baurel chimed as he held the crate while John unlocked the office.

John helped him set the box on the floor. “Merci, M. Baurel. Looks like they sent half of their supply my way. Must be expecting a lot from my experiments this time around.”

“Which is what, Dr. Tyler?”

“Nothing much, just trying to cure osteoporosis, maybe arthritis if the time allows,” John chirped as he moved to grab a wheeled dolly from behind the front desk.

M. Baurel’s bushy eyebrows arched in surprise. “Well, Dr. Tyler, it’s a good thing you came when you did, you know. Seems like everyone’s doing a bit better than normal these days.”

“D’ya think so?” he grinned at the stocky postman. “Glad to hear it.”

The door swung open behind M. Baurel, and a heavyset man entered the office. “I’m here for my 2 o’clock, Dr. Tyler.”

“Of course, M. Fermant. If you wouldn’t mind having a seat in the waiting room, I’ll be right back after I take this package to my lab. Thanks again, M. Baurel!”

M. Baurel tipped his hat to the wild-eyed, wild-haired doctor and swept out of the office, shifting his messenger bag as he did so.

John motioned for his next appointment to follow him to his examining room, where he would spend another several hours working into the late evening, a little too late, Rose had commented once.  
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Rose sighed to herself as she sipped a cup of tea, reading the local book club choice for their next meeting. Sure, she missed the alien-hunting and the running (Oh, the running! She had lost ten pounds once in Fregya!), but she loved being home, catching her breath, working on little projects here and there in which she knew she was making a difference. But sometimes, she longed for nothing more than a little adventure. Secretly, she was glad that John had agreed to letting her deliver the baby in Saint-Malo. She adored the charming little streets and oh-so-inspiring ramparts.

A knock echoed through the living room from the door. She rose from her seat, waddled to answer the call, and opened to see her newest friend, Mlle. Cattolica, the Italian pasta chef from Naples.

“Catto, come on in! Everything alright wi’ you?”

Cattolica nodded warmly at her. “I’m alright, like usual. Just wanted to bring these by. How are you feeling?”

“Just fine, thank you.” Rose felt her hand move to her swollen abdomen instinctively. “Would you like some tea? Biscuits?”

“If it’s no trouble for you, then I’d love some!”

Rose moved to the side so Cattolica could enter. She guided her friend to the living room, moving her book and tea to the side so she could make herself comfortable. “I’ve got a pot o’ green tea on. Would you like anything wi’ it?”

Cattolica shook her head. “I drink my green tea black, so to speak.”

“Any biscuits for you?”

“That’s alright, thanks. I see you’ve gotten started on the book club read.”

Rose glanced over her shoulder at her friend as she took the teapot to pour her drink. “Yeah, it’s fine s’far, nothin’ too interesting goin’ on right now, but I suppose t’ll pick up. I really liked the- ah!”

Cattolica sprung to her feet. “Rose? Everything alright?”

Rose winced as she looked down at her scalded wrist. “Cold water, I need cold water,” she mumbled to herself as she hurried to the tap. She proceeded to run her wrist under the water for a few seconds.

Cattolica ran to her aide. “Is it the baby? Do you want me to call Dr. Tyler for you? I’ll drive you to the office if you need!”

Rose offered a small smile to her friend. “I appreciate your help, but I jus’ splashed some hot tea on my wrist. Not the first time tha’s happened, though.”

Cattolica touched Rose’s shoulder. “I have keep a salve in my purse for burns and cuts. Would you like some?”

“Oh, thanks, but John’s got some cream ‘r something around here. He knows I’ve become more prone to these sorts of things lately.” Rose removed her angry red wrist from the water and searched for the cream in the medicine cabinet. Upon finding it, she tenderly rubbed some of the cream onto her wrist, then wrapped it in bandages to set the cream in nicely.

Cattolica stood in the entryway, watching her friend with wide eyes. “When did Dr. Tyler say you were due?”

“In about three weeks.”

“And you’re delivering in Saint-Malo?”

“Mm hm.”

“When do you leave?”

“Friday. We’ll have enough leeway time between the due date and the drive there to stop at Mont-Saint-Michel and the biscuit place, I think.”

Cattolica nodded as she took a paper towel and cleaned up the green tea spill. She poured herself a cup, noting that Rose had let the teapot become far too hot. “Do you think maybe you might like to have someone to help you around the house for a few days? Just until you leave for Saint-Malo?”

Rose shook her head. “Catto, you need t’be at the restaurant, not here. Are you on break right now?”

“Yeah, it’s my lunch break, but I wanted to check on you.”

“Is this John’s doing?”

“No, it’s just something I want to do. I’ve got some vacation days that won’t roll over if I don’t use them soon, so why don’t you let me help you? I can cook your meals, help you with anything you need, and just visit with you.”

Rose arched an eyebrow as she took her cup of tea and sipped on it. “So, just so we’re clear, you’re not givin’ up your vacation days that you were gonna use to visit your family on me, right?”

“Nope. I promise you that I will be fine. This is something I want to do to help you and Dr. Tyler. I mean, I definitely owe you two one for welcoming me to Arromanches so warmly. And Dr. Tyler did help me get that melanoma worked out with a dermatologist in Caen.” Cattolica touched the place behind her elbow where it had developed after so many sunny Italian summers.

“If you’re that insistent abou’ it, then I don’t see why not. I want t’pay you with something, though. Give me a few ideas.”

“No, Rose. This is something I can do for you, after all you’ve done for me.”

Rose finally acquiesced, much to Cattolica’s joy. “Shall we watch old movies, then?”

Cattolica’s grin grew. “Absolutely! Audrey Hepburn or Ingrid Bergman?”

"Take your pick!” Rose chimed as she followed Cattolica to the sofa and switched on the telly. She watched as her friend selected a movie and popped it into the DVD player. Truth be told, ever since John had started working his late hours, she had been a little lonely. She had suggested getting a dog, but with the baby’s impending arrival, both had agreed that one extra responsibility was one too many at the moment. Nevertheless, Rose’s eyes were always glancing at the clock, willing the hands to scurry a little faster to eight o’clock, when she knew John’s footsteps would be upon the doorstep.

When the baby came, she knew she would feel a lot less lonely, especially with her mother’s arrival. Part of her hoped John would be able to stay with her and the baby for a few days before returning to work, but even that seemed like wishful thinking, considering all of the projects in his lab. The man’s mind never quite left the lab, she’d discovered a few weeks after arriving in Arromanches, but she didn’t mind. It was when he talked about the lab that she saw the Doctor the most in him.

And she did miss the Doctor, but she found herself loving her time with her husband even more. He was just the same as the man she had met that Christmas Eve, the night before the Sycorax came, and he was developing differently than the Doctor had. There was no Martha, no Donna, no Astrid in his mind - just her. And together, they could have all the adventures that came with a human life.

The two friends watched Roman Holiday together, snuggled under warm blankets, sipping green tea from thick mugs. Every now and then Rose would feel the baby shift. Perhaps the little one was getting ready to meet his or her parents. Even though John had assured her that the baby wouldn’t come for another few weeks, Rose’s mind couldn’t help but wonder if maybe she might deliver early. It wasn’t uncommon or anything.

Her thoughts drifted back to the night that Emilie Vendre had gone into labor. John had hopped up from bed, answered his cell, (which had woken Rose) and pressed a kiss to Rose’s cheek before he dashed away for his clothes, shoes, and doctor’s bag to welcome the newest member of the Vendre family. With every passing minute that evening, Rose’s thoughts had been on her husband. Sure, he had delivered babies in the emergency rooms in Paris and Barcelona, but this was small town, middle of nowhere, Arromanches. What if something went wrong? Who would he call then? She had kept her phone pressed to her chest, hoping he would call if she could be of any help. And then, in the wee hours of the morning, he had slipped back into bed, as if nothing had happened, and gave her the good news when she woke for breakfast.

“Does it stress you out or bother you or anythin’, being responsible for two human lives an’ all?”

He had shaken his head. “When it’s people you care about, you’re willing to swallow your fears to make sure they’re alright. You fall back on science and never let your emotions master you.”

She supposed that’s what he would do when he ushered their little one into the world, in a hospital room in Saint-Malo. With that image in her mind, Rose fell asleep, letting her head rest on a sofa cushion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! One more chapter to go. As always, kudos and comments are much appreciated, as it helps me know what you like to read from me.


	3. Chapter 3

From the entryway, John could hear the murmurings of Cattolica and Rose from the bedroom as they packed everything up for Saint-Malo. The car was running, and he had placed his backpack, doctor’s bag, and rolling luggage in the trunk already. He glanced at his watch, hoping to leave within the next ten minutes. However, he had learned that time crunches weren’t exactly what Rose and Cattolica ran by, considering the fact that he had told her they were going to leave thirty minutes ago.

“Oh, Catto, I can’t thank you enough for all o’ your help.”

“No problem, Rose. You take care of that wonderful husband of yours and your precious little one. Come back as soon as you can. You know we all want to meet him or her!”

The two trailed out of the bedroom, Cattolica helping Rose roll her luggage to the door. John’s eyebrows rose, impressed that his wife had finally gotten ready. “Got your hospital bag and everything?”

She held up the massive leather bag she had bought in Spain. “Check.”

“And enough clothes for ten days?”

“Double check.”

John nodded at her and Cattolica. “Thanks again, Catto. We look forward to coming back as soon as we can.”

Cattolica smiled and hugged him and Rose before they loaded up the last bits of luggage and drove away from their beachside home. All was silent as the two rode through the town to the highway. Once they were finally on the highway, Rose pulled her travel blanket out of her hospital bag and snuggled up in her seat.

“Get some rest, darling,” John murmured as he blew her a kiss from the driver’s seat.

“I’ll try.”  
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Rose woke as John shifted the wheel to turn into a gas station.

“Feeling alright?”

She smiled back at him. “Yeah. Got a good nap in while I can. Suppose I won’t get many of those when the baby’s here.”

John shrugged and pulled up next to a gas pump. “I’ll see to it that you do. We can tag team, if you like.”

“I’d like that a lot.”

He smiled down at her. “I’m gonna pop into the loo, grab a few drinks, and top off the tank. D’you want anything from the shop?”

“Tha’s alright. I’ve got my water bottle.”

He hopped out of the car, leaving the key with Rose, and hurried into the gas station. Rose knew he was eager to get to the hotel and get everything set up at the hospital. He had already called ahead, finding the hospital staff extremely welcoming and open to letting them deliver there. She shifted in her seat, waiting a few moments, when a strange sensation overtook her.

“Bloody… oh gosh.”

She sat up in her seat, finding the baby’s position had shifted off of her chest and further down in her body. Involuntarily she called John. He didn’t pick up. Probably still in the loo, she guessed. She didn’t feel anything similar to the contractions she had read about on the online blogs, so everything must be alright.

A few more minutes passed. She squinted into the rearview mirror as a large blur soared from the gas station doors, narrowly missed getting hit by a black Peugeot, and dashed to her carside, opening the unlocked door.

“Rose? Are you alright? You’re not going into labor, are you? How far apart are they?”

“John,” Rose murmured as he handed her the bags from the shop, trying to avoid the stares from several people in the gas station parking lot, “I’m not in labor. Think the baby dropped.”

“Step out and I’ll see.” She obeyed, unbuckling her seatbelt and standing in front of him. His hands immediately went to her swollen stomach, feeling around gently. “Definitely. Things are moving right along, just on schedule. Safe to say we’ll meet our little one in about a week or so.”

Rose smiled to herself. One week seemed awfully long and short at the same time.  
*

John glanced over at his wife in bed. They had made a safe trip to Saint-Malo a few days ago, and most of their freetime had included going over the birth process, checking out a few of the local shops, and taking long walks on the beach. She had even had a few practice contractions over the past few days. But tonight, she had been moving around a lot more than usual in her sleep.

“Rose?”

“Mmmph.”

“You alright over there?”

“My back’s super tense.”

His hand moved to her back that faced him. “Want me to massage it?”

“If you don’t mind.”

John obliged her, gently rubbing her back muscles. “How long’s that been going on for?”

“About a minute.”

“Happened before?”

He caught a wince on his wife’s face. “Yeah, about four or five.”

“Stronger than it was yesterday?”

“For sure.”

He urged her to sit up. “I think it’s time you and I got to the hospital.”

“You think it’ll be tonight?”

“Definitely a guess of mine. Come on, it’s just down the street.”

They quickly got dressed and grabbed their bags to head for the hospital. Rose leaned on her husband’s shoulder as they got in the elevator. “’s gonna be okay, right? Like you think we’re gonna be just fine?”

“You’re healthy, and last time I checked, so is the baby. Don’t see why anything would go wrong. I’m gonna take care of you, don’t you worry.”

Upon reaching the hospital, they got checked into the room they had reserved and set up their belongings. John had his wife dress in a hospital gown and get fixed in the hospital bed, positioning her for maximum comfort.

“You ready for this?” she breathed as he injected an IV into her right arm.

An eager smile rested on his face. “Always!”  
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ 

Soft cries echoed in the ears of the two weary new parents. John’s grin almost blinded Rose as he set their little girl on her chest. “Welcome to the world, Eleanor.”

“She’s so beautiful, John.”

“Just like her mum.”

“No, come here,” she beckoned him to her bedside. John finished everything up and took her outstretched palm. “She’s got your hair and eyes. Look.”

“Your lips,” he breathed as he kissed his wife for a long few moments.

“She’s perfect,” Rose breathed, letting her head rest upon her husband’s shoulder as she fed her daughter.

John blinked between streams of tears. “Positively.”

The two shared a small kiss. “She’s gonna have the best life, you know,” he whispered in Rose’s ear.

“She already has, ‘cos she’s got you.” 

He smiled up at his wife. “And you.”

“We’re gonna give her the best, together.”

His lips found their way to her brow. “Allons-y.”

FIN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it for now! If you're interested in seeing Rose and John raise Eleanor in France (along with some alien encounters and TARDIS adventures), let me know in the comments! As always, kudos are appreciated.


	4. A Quick Christmas One-Shot :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is from my 30 Days of Fandoms challenge I'm doing for the holiday season, but I wanted to post it here just to keep things cohesive and easy to find for everyone. Nothing too fancy, set a couple years after Eleanor's birth. Enjoy!

“Well, I woke up today  
And you’re on the other side  
Our time will never come again.  
But if you can still dream  
Close your eyes, it will seem  
That you can see me now and then…”   
-“Song for Ten”

Rose Tyler strolled down the sidewalk, studying the crisp swirls of water vapor she exhaled with each breath. Trying to warm her extremities, she clenched her fists together in her gloves, wishing she had remembered to grab a scarf from the house. 

Her boots left small footsteps behind her as she neared the school building. A few other parents were waiting by the door, talking in quiet voices amongst themselves. 

Why hadn’t she gotten involved with the other parents at Eleanor’s school? That’s right, she reminded herself, right as Eleanor was starting to have class parties and events with the PTA, Rose had just had her twin boys, the very same boys her mother was caring for as she picked up Eleanor from school. Time had slipped by, once again, which seemed quite amusing for the wife of a half-human, half-Time Lord. 

He stood from afar, the wind chapping his cheeks as he leaned against the lamppost. It was true, he had never forgotten his one, true love, even if he was having new adventures with Donna by the hour. Donna had requested to make a stop for some hot chocolate, just regular old hot chocolate, and he had remembered a cafe in Arromanches-Les-Bains, which just so happened to be the home of Rose Tyler and his little goddaughter. 

His eyes softened as she shivered with another wind gust, and he approached her from behind, removing his scarf to wrap around her neck tenderly. 

Rose glanced up at him quickly upon feeling the scarf around her neck. “Doctor,” she breathed, a warm smile dashing across her lips. 

“Hullo, Rose. Waiting for Eleanor, then?”

She nodded, taking his gloved hand in hers. “She’ll be out in a moment. We’re going t’ stop by the boulangerie on the way back home, if you’d like t’ join us.”  
“I’m afraid this is going to be a brief visit. Donna wanted some cocoa, so this is a pit stop for us. Thought I’d say hullo and happy Christmas while I was in town.”

“S’ glad you did. D’you want to see Eleanor, at least?”

“Not enough time.”

She scrunched her nose. “Not even for a Time Lord?”

“Especially not for a Time Lord. Rose,” he felt his breath catch in his throat, “I want you to have this.” He dug out a wrapped package from his trench coat pocket. 

Her eyes widened with excitement as she tore open the wrapping. “Oh, Doctor, wha’ is all of this?”

“A journal from an adventure I had with Martha. I think it belongs to you.” 

Rose traced the leather, soft and supple against her fingertips. “A Journal of Impossible Things.” Her fingers glided through the pages, which fluttered with a gentle ripple at her touch. She stopped when her eyes met a familiar face. 

“That’s me, isn’t it?” 

His smile widened into a grin. “Quite right, too.” 

Her grin met his. “I was in your journal o’ impossible things?”

“You’re the most impossible thing I know, Marion Rose Tyler, Bad Wolf of the universe.” 

“Same goes for you, Doctor, Doctor Who? You ne’er told me your name. I always called you Doctor, but then again, so does everyone else.”

His deep brown eyes met hers, locking with her gaze. “That’s my second gift to you, and only you. Come here.” He whispered a foreign uttering into her ear, just loud enough for her to discern a syllable from a pause. 

“Tha’s your name? That long jumble o’ sounds?”

“It’s Gallifreyan, of course, so yeah.”

“Wha’s it mean?”

“The Impossible One, in one translation.”

Rose shook her head, a chuckle slipping from her lips. “’s really too fitting, innit. We’re both impossible, aren’t we?”

“Maybe, but she isn’t.” The Doctor nodded at the little brunette girl who was racing down the steps of the school building towards her mother. “I’m off then, Rose. Say hullo to John and the boys for me.”

“Wait, Doctor, I never gave you a Christmas gift!” 

“You most certainly have.” With that, he hurried back to the cafe to collect Donna, leaving Rose with his journal, his scarf, and his name. 

She had given him far more Christmas gifts than he could ever repay: every warm and waking moment she’d spent with him, which he could close his eyes and see, every now and then. 

It was the best gift he’d never asked for but always dreamed of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the story! I always thought that the Doctor would share his/her name with Rose of all people. What do you think? Kudos/comments are always appreciated. Happy holidays! :D


End file.
